Janitor Guy
by s0ulm8
Summary: A look at House from a slightly different perspective... someone else's. No ships. No romance. Just a good yarn.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Springtime in Princeton NJ. Warm days, cool nights. Finally the snow I've been shoveling all winter is melting. Birds chirping, flowers blooming and trees turning green again. And all 400 of those hospital windows have to be washed. Guess who has to do it? I really hate this time of year. The front of the building isn't so bad. Getting access is just a matter of scaffolding.

It's the backside that twists my shorts in a knot. Either you risk killing yourself climbing ladders up to all those balconies or you've got to go through all the offices of all those doctors and administrators to get there. I'll take the ladders, thank you. Then there's Doc House. He won't let me climb up onto 'his' balcony. I have to make an appointment to enter through his office. Then he watches me like a hawk until I'm done. What he finds so fascinating about window-washing is beyond me. He never says anything, just watches. Like it was me doing brain surgery or something. That man is spooky, let me tell you. None of my crew will do his windows, not on a bet.

Last year, he did the darnedest thing. Just as I was leaving his office after cleaning those windows (inside and out, thank you very much!) he asked me if I played poker. "I've been playing poker since I was eight years old, doc." I told him. He smiled and handed me his card with his home address on it. "Thursday," he says, then turns around like I wasn't in the room anymore. I won $47 that first night. He didn't like that at all, I could tell.

Funny thing about Doc House, most folks don't like him much. To be fair, he is an odd duck. With most people here, me and my crew are invisible. He's the only one besides the nurses who knows my name. It's Janitor-guy, by the way. Nice to meet you.

You know, being invisible and all, I get to see and hear a lot of things on this job that others miss. Take yesterday for example. Fourth time this year I've had to clean Doc's blood and spittle off the wall after being punched out by a patient's family. That man can take a beating better than anyone I ever saw. Not really sure what sets people off on him, but whatever it is, it hurts. He just gets right back up, like he knew it was coming. Well, I did say he was an odd duck.

But then there are those times when he doesn't think anybody's looking. That's when I get to do the watching. Let me tell you, it's a real show. You can tell when he's about to do something evil. He gets this quirky look on his face and a different kind of glint in his eye. Him and that Doc Wilson must go way back by the looks of things. Greasing door handles and gluing shut doors, just like we used to do back in school. You just have to laugh at him. 'Course, I'm the one who has to clean it all up in the end. But, honest, it's worth it.

Let me tell you this one story, though. You may not ever believe me, but I swear on my

grandmother's grave it's true.

Chapter Two

"HOUSE!"

I stuck my head out the door of the men's room to see what all the hubbub was about again. Second time this week and it was only Wednesday. Here he comes, rounding that corner like hell's biting at his behind. I got the mop bucket out of the way as fast as I could, cause I knew where he was going. The only place he could hide from her, at least for a few minutes.

"Thanks, didn't want to have to try hurdles so early in the morning."

"What'd you do this time, Doc?" I shook my head and smiled.

He took his time at the urinal. "Me? I didn't do anything."

Nodding, I replied, "Well, that must be it, then."

He laughed. "Poker tonight? I've got a new pigeon."

"Sure, I need to win back that thirty bucks you stole from me last week. Wife nearly kicked me out over that."

"Well, you should have known she only married you for your money." After washing his hands, he asked me to check if the coast was clear.

"Sorry, Doc, they're camped out there waiting for you. Good luck, it was nice knowing you."

He made a sour face at me and walked out of the restroom. I couldn't make out all of it, but evidently he'd welshed on a few clinic hours and ticked off the one patient he had seen. Seems Dr. Cuddy wanted an explanation. Well, let me tell you, if anybody can spin a tale, it's ol' Doc House and he was laying it on thick. I ducked back into the restroom when they heard me snickering.

I finished up in the men's room and moved down the hall a little to start on the ladies'. Got to knock real loud and announce your attentions when you do… I learned that the hard way. A few seconds later, two of the administrative secretaries left the restroom.

"I'm just telling you what I heard!"

"He actually told the guy to check his wife's underwear drawer? That doesn't even make sense!"

"Brenda was right there and heard the whole thing!"

Wow, news gets around fast in this place. Now, I was more curious than ever about what Doc had done. After the ladies brushed past me like I was a piece of furniture, I propped open the door and put out the 'Closed for Cleaning' sign. Don't ever let anybody tell you that men are messier than women! It always takes me twice as long to clean the ladies' room than it does to clean the men's.

Coffee break time found me down in the cafeteria, chatting with the boys.

Bobby was whining again, as usual. "All I wanted to do was empty her trash can! Took me 20 minutes just to get in the room. She kept shooshing me out of her office, trying to talk to somebody on the phone. I don't know why they don't just fire the guy if he's that much of a pain in the you-know-what."

"What'd he do this time?" Larry managed a few words now and then between chunks of whatever sandwich his wife had made for him. His first of the day, that is. He didn't know it, but we had a pool going on the date of his first heart attack.

"Heck if I know, something about getting caught in some lady's underwear drawer or something." Bobby was twitching. He needed a cigarette bad.

Larry actually stopped in mid-chew and stared at Bobby. "No kiddin'?"

"She actually said he was caught in some lady's underwear drawer?" I didn't believe that for a second. Doc House get caught? No way!

Bobby shrugged and hopped up, heading for the smoke hole.

Now, you see, that's how rumors get started.

Chapter Three

After lunch, I was making my rounds, answering broken light bulb calls and pitching in with the cleaning girls. The place was literally abuzz. Everybody and every floor was talking about the 'underwear drawer' incident, as it had been dubbed.

"Where does he get off sneaking into other people's houses? My husband would kill him!"

"What the heck was he looking for?"

"I always knew he was a pervert, but for crying out loud!"

"Don't you ladies and gentlemen have anything better to do? All this rumor-mongering is not getting the patients bathed or meds passed. Now break it up!"

After lunch, my next stop was Doc Wilson's office. Someone had mysteriously loosened all the screws on his desk chair resulting in something of a commotion, or so I'd heard. It was an easy enough fix and gave me the chance to get at his windows as well.

"How goes it, Doc? Good time for you?" I motioned to his dismantled chair.

He waved me in. "Sure, thanks… uh, I'm sorry, I don't know your name." Doc Wilson is a nice guy. A bit overdressed if you asked me, but then nobody does.

"Just call me Janitor-guy." I smiled and threw a look over my shoulder, indicating Doc House's office. He smiled and shook his head. "Mind if I wash your windows while I'm here? Help me get that one off my 'honey-do' list."

He laughed out loud. "Sure JG, go right ahead." He went back to his files and charts and what-nots while I tinkered with his chair. I didn't have to work too fast. Luckily, he had a spare chair. They call that one the 'bad news' chair.

The phone rang and Doc picked it up. I looked at him to see if he needed me to leave, but he shook his head, so I kept working.

"Lisa, I wasn't there, I don't know what he said." He paused, "No, he hasn't discussed it with me, in fact, I haven't seen him all day." Another pause. "Well, I'm sure if anyone can soothe the man, it's you." He then hung up, shaking his head and sighing as he did so.

"Doc House at it again?" I said.

He looked at me quizzically. "How did you know?"

"Oh, Doc, I don't know what IT is, but IT is all over the hospital." I chuckled.

"What are they saying?"

"Can't put two and two together. Something about some ladies' underwear." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Oh God." Doc Wilson got up and left the room. I could just bet where he was going.

I finished putting the chair back together and back where it belonged, then started on the windows. It was another fine day. I could see the two Docs out on Doc House's balcony. He was cool as a cucumber as always, but Doc Wilson was waving his hands, pacing back and forth and rubbing the back of his neck. Finally, Doc House turned and went back into his office, Doc Wilson hot on his heels.

My job was done, so I gathered my supplies and left.

On the elevator back down to the basement, I heard the oddest conversation. Two really well dressed suits were watching the numbers tick down, not looking at each other and certainly not looking at me. Invisible, remember?

"This one is going to cost us."

"Look, we don't even know what really happened yet."

"It's House -- enough said -- it's going to cost us."

They got off before I did, so I didn't get to hear the rest. Man, I'd like to be a fly on somebody's wall. This was getting good.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Four**_

My day ended in the clinic, mopping out the exam rooms, replacing paper towels, and wiping down all the exam tables with heavy duty germ killer. The nurses at the desk were finishing their paperwork. It would be the night crew who would mop the nurses' station and wipe down the waiting room chairs.

"Frank, we're heading out, you want me to lock the door behind me?" Brenda asked on her way out.

"'Sokay, hon, I'll get it." I waved the last of the nurses good night.

"Pssst."

I looked around, trying to figure out what just sprung a leak.

"Pssst!"

That was no leak. I turned my head and saw Doc House poking his head out from one of the exam rooms. "Is she still in there?"

I assumed he mean Dr. Cuddy. I took a peak. Her office was dark. "Looks gone to me, Doc."

He walked out of his hidey-hole and approached me. "Did you know there are exactly 38 really good places to hide out on this floor alone?"

"I'll keep that in mind, Doc. See you at your place at seven?"

"You got it, your turn to bring the beer."

"Schlitz or Pabst Blue Ribbon?"

"Ugh, forget it, just bring the pretzels." He hobbled out the door and I finished up mopping.

The wife doesn't really mind my weekly poker games with the Doc. She thinks I'm doing him a favor. How she comes by that notion is anybody's guess. She's only met him once, but she's good at reading people and is rarely wrong. So I don't fight with her. Which is a good thing.

Doc did, in fact, have a new pigeon.

Wait, maybe I should back up a bit. Usually, the Thursday night poker game consists of me, some guy Doc met at a bus stop and a guy who works at a dry cleaners'. None of us knows each other's names, which is a little weird, but Doc can't remember anybody's name anyway, so we just humor him. From what I understand, I replaced a guy who got real upset after one game 'cause of some private information that came out during the course of the evening. Don't know what it was, obviously, but he never came back. Me, I could care less.

Doc's a good poker player. No tells that I've been able to catch. He plays mind games with everybody and can bluff you out of your socks. Not a lot of talking, just poker playing. My kinda game.

Anyway, the 'pigeon' was none other than Doc Wilson. When he arrived, the other two guys got kinda nervous and threatened to leave. "Don't worry, gentlemen, no secrets to be let out of the bag this time, I assure you." Doc started to shuffle and the other two guys looked at Doc Wilson nervously. He looked back at all of us, just as nervously.

We were playing for about a half an hour when Doc Wilson finally started talking. Everybody groaned, including Doc House. "What happened this time, House?"

"Already told you. Nothing, absolutely nothing, now shut up and play."

He narrowed his eyes at Doc House and raised him. "Must be something. The whole hospital is talking."

"Stupid people talk because they have nothing better to do. Now shut up."

Dry cleaner guy folded and I raised again.

Doc House shifted his eyes to me and cracked one of his trademark evil grins. I couldn't tell if he was going to congratulate me or wipe me out big time.

"Anything that involves a woman's underwear drawer has to come from something, House, there's got to be a kernel of truth in there somewhere." He watched as Doc strung me along then shut me down with an inside straight. Dang! There was ninety-two bucks in that pot! I popped open another Foster's.

Dry cleaner guy lit a cigar and promptly started chewing on it. Bus stop guy was fidgety as he could be. "You know where the bathroom is, we'll wait." Doc House started shuffling again.

Doc Wilson wasn't gonna let it drop. "Well?"

"Oh, for crying out loud! The guy came into the clinic complaining of a rash. I told him to quit wearing his wife's underwear, she obviously had crabs and now, so did he."

We all looked at him like he'd pulled a rabbit out of his ear.

"How could you possibly have known he was wearing his wife's underwear?" Bus Stop Boy asked as he was zipping up. I wished he never had. He looked at all of us. "You mean he had them on right there in the clinic? Are you kidding me?"

"Yep, little buggers crawling all over the place." Doc House started dealing again.

"That's it? That's all there was to it?" Doc Wilson looked like he was staring at the tooth fairy or something. "So Cuddy is so upset with you because you told one of the biggest donors to the hospital that his wife was cheating on him. My God House, how many times does that make in the last four years? When are you ever going to find a tactful way to break that kind of news to people?" Doc Wilson was laughing now. "She's going to have you drawn and quartered one of these days!"

"First of all what is one of the biggest donors to the hospital doing in the _free_ clinic and why is it my fault that people are stupid and want to stay that way?" Doc House tapped his cards on the table impatiently.

"But wait," I couldn't help myself, "how did that turn in to you getting caught in some woman's underwear drawer?" I looked around at the table. "THAT's the story that's going around the hospital like wildfire!"

"That, my friend," he rather casually replied, "is because our beloved Nurse Brenda heard only a snippet the conversation and can't keep her mouth shut." With that, he took a swig of scotch and a new hand started.

_**Chapter Five**_

The furor had died down simply because there was no new news and gossip-mongers had moved on to juicier, more current topics. You'd a-thought that was the end of it. And you'da be wrong. So was I, in a big way. A few days later I decided I'd do an end run around Doc House. I got in about an hour early, hoping to beat him into his office to do his windows without an audience. Boy, was I glad he was known as a late sleeper. Using my master key to get in, I moved all the furniture out of the way and started in on the inside of the windows.

Just as I was getting all the furniture back into place, he shows up. Still pretty early for him, but heck, I'd be out on the balcony in thirty seconds with any luck. Oh, but mercy, when I looked up, I could have swore I was looking at a dead man. I couldn't help but stare. He reminded me of my Uncle Bert after one of his weeklong binges. Eyes red inside and out, skin a ghastly pale color and so help me, he hadn't changed clothes in a week.

"My Lord, Doc, what in God's name…" I grabbed his backpack and made him sit down. And don't you know, he let me! Something wasn't right and it wasn't right big time.

I went over to the little kitchenette thing in the adjoining room and real quick made him some coffee. My old man had been a sailor, so I knew how to make a cup of coffee that could stand up and walk across the table to you.

"You wanna talk about it, Doc?" He was staring off into space as I handed him the biggest mug I could find.

"I was wrong, Frank." He just held that coffee cup and stared at something on the floor. Did he just say he was wrong? And did he just call me 'Frank'?

"Take a drink, Doc, you need it and you need it bad." Not knowing what he was talking about, I just squatted there beside him, like I did with my kids when they were scared or upset, waiting for them to throw up.

"Why didn't I see it? Everybody lies." His voice was a deep, scary kind of monotone.

I watched him take a drink, but could tell he wasn't tasting anything. That coffee should have taken the roof of his mouth off, but he didn't even flinch. I wanted to go get Doc Wilson, but at the same time, I didn't think it was safe to leave Doc House alone. So I stayed put.

"What didn't you see, Doc?" I offered real easy-like.

He finally turned his head and looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. "There was no poker game last night."

That's true. There hadn't been. He'd called and cancelled. "We all figured you just got busy or something, Doc. No big deal."

"I was busy watching a woman trying to die. She wasn't the one cheating on him, he was cheating on her. Never assume anything, Frank. Never assume." With that, he resumed staring at the floor.

This was really confusing. Who was cheating on who? And why would anybody be dying over it? It didn't make any sense. "Why is that your fault, Doc? People gonna do what people gonna do. It's not like you can control them."

Doc House shifted his head and looked at me with this weird look on his face, like, well, I don't know like what… like a light bulb was going off in his head or a switch had been flipped or something. "You're right, Frank, I can't control them."

He handed the coffee off to me and got up, heading out of the office. "What'd I say?" I asked. He didn't answer, just turned back and smiled at me.

"Come on, Frank, I want to show you something."

"Me? I'm no doctor, I'm just a janitor."

"Oh come on, it'll be fun."

Somehow, I knew it would be.

_**Chapter Six**_

"Uh, Doc, isn't this what got you in trouble to begin with?" I'm not sure why I was whispering. The house was empty after all.

Doc House grunted that funny little laugh of his. "See what happens when you listen to rumors? I've never been here before in my life."

For somebody who'd never been there before, he not only knew how to get in the place, but he sure looked like he knew where he was headed. Straight for the master bedroom. There were two dressers and a chest of drawers in what looked to me like the biggest bedroom I'd ever laid eyes on. Doc House glanced from one to the others with an 'eeny, meeny, miney, moh' look on his face, then chose the larger one under the window. "You see, women always manage to use more drawer-space."

I stood nervously in the doorway, praying like heck that no one would come home too soon. "Doc, just what is it you're looking for?"

"Underwear, Frank! Lingerie, little bits of nothingness promising unlimited pleasure and hours of fun and excitement." He'd located the lady of the house's unmentionables' drawer and was rummaging around. "Ah ha! Just as I thought!"

"Thought what?"

"No critters! I'm an idiot. I gave him the perfect excuse." He whirled around to face me, this terribly angry look in his eyes. "Never assume anything, Frank!"

I decided it was best not to argue. He pulled out his cell phone and placed a call, to the hospital, I assumed (but didn't say that out loud), and started barking out a bunch of orders and medical gobbledy-gook. We wandered around in the house a little while longer, checking out the kitchen and laundry room. Man, this house was the size of my favorite WalMart! My wife would kill me if we had a place half this size. It must take an army of maids just to keep it dusted. And windows? Forget about it! "Doc, what does this guy do for a living? My entire family could live in that den back there!"

"Well, from the paperwork in the study I'd say he's been living off his wife's money for some time now. And it's running out. Okay, Frank, have you touched anything since we've been in here?"

That snapped me back to reality. "Oh, heck no!" I shoved my hands in my pockets, trying to retrace my steps in my mind since we got in here. "No, sir, I haven't touched nuthin'" God, I hoped that was true.

"Settle down, Frank. I'm going to check one more thing, then we're just going to leave everything the way we found it."

He headed to the master bedroom again and checked out the master bath. I couldn't see what he was rummaging for. He returned with a 'ta-da' look on his face.

"Doc, what about your, uh, well, your fingerprints? You opened that drawer and some of the cabinets after all." I was really scared for him now. Scared for me, too, come to that.

Grinning, he pulled out a pair of inside-out surgical gloves from his pants pocket and showed them to me. I hadn't even noticed he'd been wearing them the whole time.

I shook my head. "Can we get out of here now?"

"Sure, I've seen what I came to see. Besides, I'm hungry, how 'bout you?"

Once back at the hospital, we headed to the cafeteria for lunch. Over sandwiches and chips I finally got up the nerve to ask questions. "Doc, just what is going on?"

He chewed on his Reuben for a bit before answering. His eyes clouded over while he was thinking.

"What would you do if you thought your wife was cheating on you?" He kept munching, but stared a hole in me.

"Damn, Doc. I don't know. Cry like a baby first. Then, I guess I'd get really pissed, try to find out who it was and beat the snot out of him."

"Exactly."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Seven

"Frank, where have you been?" The voice of my supervisor, Don, rang through the hallway like a bullhorn.

I froze, knowing this would happen. I'd been waiting for it, actually. I had absolutely no idea how to explain my absence from the hospital during work hours. This was it.

"You realize I could terminate you right here on the spot, don't you? You can't just up and leave the premises without permission. Heck, you didn't even let anyone know you were gone! Did it ever occur to you that someone might be worried? We might have called your wife and scared her half to death. What were you thinking?" He'd pulled me aside into a quieter part of the hallway, his hands on his hips, waiting for an answer.

"He was helping me save a patient's life." I hadn't even seen Doc House sidle up behind Don and was shocked, let me tell you.

Don turned slightly and straightened his back, neck hairs bristling. "Doctor House, as much as I appreciate your input, this matter is out of your jurisdiction and definitely outside your authority. I'd prefer it if you'd put what you have to say into a memo and forward it to me through appropriate channels."

Well, the ruckus must have spooked somebody, 'cause right about then Dr. Cuddy shows up, none to happy. "My office… now!"

None of us was very keen about this development. We all followed rather sheepishly. I decided to keep my mouth shut as long as possible and let the super powers do the shouting. Either way, I was in for it.

"Okay, let's hear it." Dr. Cuddy sat down behind her desk, looking from Doc House to Don and back again, finally settling on Doc House. Somehow, she'd already pegged him as the ultimate culprit. Me? I just sort of hovered in the corner, trying to make myself as small as possible.

"Frank was absent from the hospital during work hours. No one knew where he was or what he was doing. Why this is a matter for the Dean of Medicine, I can't imagine. It's strictly a Plant Maintenance matter." If Don had planned on cutting me some slack earlier, he was reconsidering now. His back was up, his territory invaded, his authority challenged. This was not good. I tried to calculate how much savings I had in the bank.

Dr. Cuddy turned her attention to Doc House. "Well?"

"Well, what? Frank gave me an idea. I needed a duckling. I figure he's just as good as a thirteen year old on a plane."

"What did you do, House?" Dr. Cuddy's voice had dropped a notch into a 'I'm not going to want to hear this, am I?' tone.

"We went to the Jackson's house and poked around. Frank was right, I found what is really poisoning this woman."

"Poison? Who said anything about poison? House are you out of your mind?" Dr. Cuddy jumped out of her chair and would have been foaming at the mouth if she weren't such a class act.

"Look, the woman is found unconscious in her home. Husband even admits she's been fainting a lot lately…"

"Wait, why would you even be involved in the Jackson case anyway? There's nothing out of the ordinary here. She's probably pregnant!"

"He's the guy who came into the clinic wearing his wife's lingerie with a terrific case of the crabs. Surely you remember him?"

Dr. Cuddy went white. Her words became measured and menacing. "Oh, yes, I remember, House." I was pretty sure what she really wanted to do was jump across that desk and rip his throat out with her teeth.

Don piped up, "None of this matters…"

"Shut up!" Came the shouted reply from both doctors.

That's it, I thought. Find the nearest newspaper and start running through the help-wanted ads. I'm going to be sleeping on the couch for a month.

Chapter Eight

"Don, please sit down a moment. You're right, none of this matters in your determination of your employee's behavior. However, we may have other problems." Dr. Cuddy's voice had become calm and soothing. My boss sat down and waited. Dr. Cuddy turned her attention back to Doc House, seating herself once again.

"Explain yourself."

Doc House took a deep breath and started talking like he was lecturing five year olds. "The Missus arrives in the ED after having fainted at home."

"We've heard this part."

"You want to hear more, or are you going to let me finish?"

Tempers were short, but Dr. Cuddy was trying real hard to keep things calm.

"Complete workup negative. A little anemic, but I haven't met many women of _childbearing age_…" This part he drew out a bit, "…who weren't anemic. Creatinine normal, BUN a bit elevated. Just a little dehydrated. Still nothing I haven't seen before. Tox Screen negative: no opiates, no cocaine, no barbiturates, no cannabis, no amphetamines, no alcohol. CT and MRI of the head negative: no bleeds, no clots, no infarcts. The woman is perfectly healthy. Oh, and by the way, HCG negative, so, no… she isn't pregnant. So you tell me, Cuddles, what makes a perfectly healthy 35-year old woman suddenly start fainting?" Doc House sat down and thumped his cane between his knees, waiting for a response.

Don looked at me and mouthed 'Cuddles?' I shrugged my shoulders.

"Bulimia, anorexia?" Dr. Cuddy offered.

"Teeth in perfect condition, soft palate intact. CBC, chemistries, like I said, essentially within normal limits."

"Vital signs?"

"A bit hypotensive, but nothing to write home about. No fever, no tachycardia."

Dr. Cuddy seemed a bit deflated. She rolled her eyes, giving in, "Heavy metal screen?"

Doc House lit up like a Christmas tree. "Negative." His eyes were absolutely shining.

"Wait, did you do an EEG or sleep study?" Dr. Cuddy seemed stoked.

"Normal EEG, sleep study boringly normal. She snores in a lovely falsetto."

"You did the sleep study yourself?" Dr. Cuddy was surprised to say the least.

"Why do you think I look like I haven't slept in days?" Doc House smirked his famous smirk.

"You always look like you haven't slept in days, how am I supposed to tell the difference?" Dr. Cuddy was giving as good as she was getting. Don chuckled and I just turned my face to the wall. After all, Don and Doc were both heads of their departments. I figured I'd let them duke it out.

Dr. Cuddy regained control of the situation. "Alright, alright… where does Mr., um…"

"Mr. Disaronno." Don spoke up for me for the first time.

Doc House's head whipped around toward me. "Disaronno? You're kidding, right?"

I tilted my head to one side. "Got a problem with that?" There were more times than I could remember that I had to defend my family name.

Doc House raised his hands in mock defeat and turned his attention back to Dr. Cuddy.

"House, did you disclose any of this medical information to Mr. Disaronno?"

Doc House sat back into the sofa and gave a wicked grin. "Not until you dragged us in here."

"Oh God." Dr. Cuddy cradled her head in her hands.

There was a pause in the conversation. Suddenly I realized that Don wasn't so much angry with me any more. He just wanted to find out the rest of the story. Then Dr. Cuddy said, "Alright, House, what's the rest?"

I started paying attention at this point.

"The rest of the story is that Frank, here, gave me an idea and I took him with me to the Jackson's house to snoop around. Now let me ask you a question, Cuddy. What's the number one acquisition of a rich middle aged man?"

Dr. Cuddy got a sick look on her face. "A trophy wife."

"And what does every 55-65 year old man have in common? Well, besides Viagra." Doc House was reeling her in like a twenty pound catfish.

"Diabetes? Hypertension? Coronary artery disease? Wait a minute… how did you treat her?"

"You mean after her heart rate started to plummet and she started circling the drain?" Doc House could be so condescending sometimes.

Dr. Cuddy started getting upset again. "You said her vital signs were stable!"

"In the beginning, yes, they were." He just stared her down. "Soon enough, however, her blood pressure and her blood sugar began to crash. That's when I gave her glucagon and she bounced right back. What does that tell you?"

"Oh my God. Beta blocker overdose?"

"And guess who has a prescription for propranolol in his medicine cabinet which was filled a week ago and is almost empty now?"

Don and I kept looking back and forth to each of them like we were watching a tennis match. They might as well have been talking Swahili.

"Oh God, House, you know none of that will stand up in court! What were you thinking?"

He just shook his head. "How many times have I appeared in court for stuff like this?"

She stood up and pointed her finger at him. "Leave it alone, House, I mean it!"

Chapter Nine

"Leave it alone? How am I supposed to leave it alone? You want to send her home, then wait until she shows up DOA?" Doc House appeared to be a bit more livid than usual.

"House, we have no proof of poisoning! We can't just accuse the man of attempted murder! There might have been other reasons for her collapse." She had come around the corner of her desk and was now nose-to-chin with the Doc.

"She's been fainting on and off, as it were, for a week. Since she's been here, her blood pressure and glucose have been just fine. How are you going to explain that?" He lowered his head 'til they were nose-to-nose.

Dr. Cuddy sighed loudly. "I'll talk to her." Then, pointing her finger at the Doc, "You stay away from her!"

"I'm her doctor!" He shouted.

"Not any more!" She shouted right back.

Now, I have to be honest with you, I don't know all the particulars of the end of this tale, like who said what to who. I can only tell you what I heard and what I saw. As you might have already guessed, Doc House didn't 'leave it alone'. Don hustled me out of Dr. Cuddy's office real quick-like.

"I should fire you right here and now, Frank, but so help me, that was the funniest thing I've seen in years and I owe it all to you. I swear, those two should just get a room!" He started laughing out loud. I didn't really see it as funny, but I wasn't going to argue. We traveled down to his basement office. "Now, I want to know what really happened."

"Don, there's not much to tell." I told him all that stuff about me doing the Doc's windows and him coming in looking like death warmed over twice and getting him a cup of coffee and just talking to him. "I have no idea what I said that made him want to get in that house. Next thing I knew, we were there. Scaredest I've been since high school!"

"The scaredest you've been since high school was your wedding day. I was there, remember?" Don made this weird snorting sound when he was laughing for real.

I nervously laughed along with him. "Well, that's true."

Don looked down at his desk, then back at me. "Get your butt back to work… but I'm only paying you for half a day!"

I don't remember leaving a room any faster than I left that one. That was one big bullet I just dodged, and I knew it.

I got a call to check out one of the hospital beds upstairs, it wasn't working right. Usually ends up being something simple, like plugging it in, but you never know. These new-fangled contraptions are always breaking down.

When I got there, the patient was standing by the window, talking on the phone. I let her know I was there and why and she just nodded and turned back to the glass. "Mom, I don't know. They've done all kinds of tests… NO, mother, for the last time, I'm NOT pregnant! That was the first thing they tested for." There was a pause. "Then explain to me why I feel like crap at home and I feel just fine here." I suddenly realized with a chill whose room I was in.

There really was something wrong with the hospital bed, looked like something electronic. Out of my depth, so I pulled it out of the room, promising the lady I'd have another brought in directly. Just about that time, Dr. Cuddy walked in. I didn't envy her at all. They took a seat around the little table in the corner and I slid the door shut as quietly as I could.

The quickest way to resolve the bed issue was to pull a working bed out of one of the empty rooms. As I was doing so, I could see the two ladies hunkered down. I waited while they spoke and could tell when the conversation turned intense, then calmed again. Soon enough, Dr. Cuddy left.

Moving the new bed into the room, I could see the lady was upset. She was near tears. I tried to hook up the bed, test it, and get out of there as fast as I could. I felt so bad for her. How do you make sense of something like that? I said a quick prayer that she would be alright and get out of the situation without getting hurt. I hauled the broken bed to the basement and left it with the tech guys.

Just before quitting time, there was a terrible commotion in the lobby. I heard "Code Green" announced overhead, which meant either a staff member, visitor, or patient was in danger of physical harm. Oh great! What it means to me is that if I'm anywhere near the area, I run. "All male hands on deck" in other words.

I ran down the stairs, instead of waiting for the elevator and found the lobby in chaos. Wouldn't you know, there was Doc House slammed up against the wall by some really ticked off guy who was screaming in his face. Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who this was. A security guard was sprawled on the floor, out cold. Quick like a bunny, I ran across the room and managed to grab the guy under the arms and spin him off the Doc, wrestling him down. Man, was he pissed off! I hadn't heard that kind of language coming out of anybody since my dad beat up the dad of the kid next door who had been terrorizing my sister and everybody else in the neighborhood.

Two more security guards ran through the lobby and took the guy into custody. I'm getting too old for this, I think I sprained my wrist. Doc House was rubbing his jaw and I was rubbing my wrist. "Come on, Frank, let's get you looked at," was all he said.

Days later I read in the paper where the Jacksons of Princeton were getting a divorce and looked like it was going to be a fight to the finish. Somebody in housekeeping started a pool to see which one of them would end up in the ER first. First pool I took a pass on in years.

You know, it's really strange, I'll never know why Doc House confided in me, but I quickly realized that I was the only one who knew about his 'mistake'. Neither one of us has ever said a word about it and I'm guessing we never will. The weekly poker games go on, the beer is cold, and I occasionally make a killing, but mostly I just have a good time.

Now and then, I think Doc House has a good time, too.

THE END


End file.
